


Hit the Spot

by sexysigyn



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston/Original Female Character - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 15:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3214556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sexysigyn/pseuds/sexysigyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>OFC Theodora is has not had a good climax in ages and seeking release after a dry spell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hit the Spot

Orgasms are like gifts: it is nice to treat yourself once in a while but they are always best when given by another. It had been weeks, possibly even a month or more since I had a decent climax. My fingers could work at it, the sensation building and building in my veins just to end in a whimper. Sometimes I would find myself falling asleep and my hand gone completely numb before I felt any satisfaction. A decent amount of self-love was the only thing keeping me from throwing myself at my roommate and my recent lack of fulfilment was doubling the amount of sexual frustration I felt.

Tonight, I was determined to end that trend. Already I had reached a peak only for it to ebb away. I needed to do something different. Fingers slipping easily from my clit to the opening of my vag, I pushed my index finger inside my cunt, curling it and feeling along the soft, fleshy wall. Nothing. Not even with two fingers; my arms weren’t long enough to provide the kind of pleasure I was seeking but that wouldn’t stop me from trying.

Grabbing my toy from the bag I stored it in, I twisted the bottom to activate the vibrating mechanism. Nothing. “Damnit,” I cursed. I would have to suffice with just the rubber dummy. I was not interested in wiping off my hands, getting off the bed, and removing batteries from the TV remote. No matter. The vibration tended to distract me anyway.

Normally I covered my mouth or, if I was face down, pressed my face into my pillow to muffle my noises. The last thing I wanted was my roommate Tom knowing what I did and when I was doing it. I wanted to avoid any awkwardness that might result, especially if he had any idea that I did it because of him. I didn’t think I was making sounds loud enough to attract attention but apparently in my determination, I slipped up, drawing a concerned Tom to knock on my door.

“Are you… alright… in there?” he queried, voice muffled through the door.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I managed to reassure, wincing at just how not okay I sounded. My voice was breathy, like Jackie Kennedy-Onassis, but richer, thickened with desire. Just the sound of his voice made my insides lurch, that indescribable craving that left my pussy feeling empty.

“You sure? No problems?”

 _Persistent bastard._ What was he playing at? Was he truly concerned that I had injured myself or needed assistance or was he hinting that he could help in another manner? I thought men were confusing before, now I had to make a split-decision when my brain was addled by dopamine and lust.

“My fingers aren’t sufficiently long enough,” I explained, straining my voice to make it sound as if I was reaching for something. Technically not lying. He just didn’t know what I was reaching _for._

“Let me help you with that,” he offered, a beam of light crossing the floor as he cracked the door open. The outline of his arm moved to flip the switch, but I reacted before he managed to flick the lights on.

“No!”

“Thea?” he asked, confused.

“ _Feel your way_ ,” I sang. Good Lord, what was wrong with me? Singing snippets of songs from _Grease_ , encouraging a man into my room as I masturbated…

I watched with mounting anxiety as his silhouette moved closer to my bed. I tried to convince myself I hadn’t made a mistake in reading his intentions; he had agreed to come into my room. He was moving toward my bed. He had not questioned the desire to leave the lights off. That indicated consent, right?

The mattress sagged slightly as Tom knelt on it, running one of his palms from my ankle, over my kneecap, and up my thigh before gently raking his fingernails over the skin. “How does that feel?”

I shivered at his touch. “Do it again.”

He obliged, his hand moving slightly closer to where I was wet and ready for him. “That?”

“Once more.”

This time the tips of his fingers swept across the outer skin of my sex, brushing through the tangle of wiry hair at the apex of my thighs. “How about that time?”

“More.”

“As you wish.” He pulled the toy from my pussy, clucking his tongue at me. “You have no need for this thing.”

“Prove it,” I challenged.

There was a dull thud as the rubber device hit the floor. “After I am through with you, that will never be enough for you again.”

I inhaled sharply when I felt his tongue, flat and wide, sweep from the bottom of my slit to the top, coming to a point as it passed over my clit. Twice more, as if he was a cat lapping at his milk bowl. Warm breath on my damp, engorged folds was a sensation that indeed is missing when one goes it alone; as if reading my mind, he blew gently on my nub.

“Tastes like cinnamon,” he observed, inserting a single finger into my tight passage, curling it to tickle along the inner ridges.

“Orgasm enhancement drops,” I admitted.

“Shame. I was hoping for an authentic taste of the South. Next time.”

I squealed when his finger ran over that elusive spot for which I had been searching. Never had such a feeling coursed through my body as when he hit that; it was bliss, pure ecstasy. Even above my mewling I could hear his self-satisfied chuckle.

“Please,” I begged as he leaned forward again, placing a kiss on my clit before gently sucking on it, adding another finger to his ministrations. Every movement was deliberate; every flick of his tongue, the way he licked at the dew between my folds and the steady pumping of his fingers in my wet cunt, each pass rubbing against my G-spot.

In no time I was crying out, the orgasm I had been seeking making my whole body quake. Somehow in the midst of attempting to grasp the bars on my headboard, I grabbed the decorative wooden plank in the middle and yanked it straight off the frame. Face still buried between my thighs, Tom was oblivious to my vandalism; caught in the haze between peaks, I was only vaguely aware of how the board ended up in my hand. Everything seemed to be moving in slow-motion, as if we were underwater; I dropped it to the floor before clutching at the sheets, panting. Some described the aftermath of a good orgasm as feeling like you had run a marathon. I disagree. I felt as if I was a volcano, like my body had erupted in flames, the sticky wetness streaming between the cheeks of my ass lava.

Unlike a volcano which had the option of lying dormant after such a powerful eruption, I could not afford that luxury. Catching my breath, I scrambled onto my knees and reached out, cradling Tom’s face in my hand and pulling his face to mine. The skill of his kiss made up for the thinness of his lips. It was soft. It was wild. Wet from my arousal on his lips and possessive by the way he wound his long fingers in my tangled hair.

His shirt was already half-unbuttoned, making my job easier. Disengaging myself from our kiss, I got to my knees on the floor and unfastened his pants, rubbing the prominent bulge that strained against the zipper.

Impatient with the time I was taking, he quickly pulled the zipper down and, raising himself a few inches off the mattress, slid them down his legs, kicking his feet free.

The room might have been pitch black but from the single sliver of light creeping in the doorway, I could tell he was quite well endowed. I peeled the old, over-sized college tee I had been wearing and tossed it in the general direction of the laundry hamper. I really didn’t give a damn where it landed.

Leaning forward, I cupped my full breasts and pressed them together around his hard cock. He moaned and slowly thrust his hips forward. As the tip moved closer to my face, I parted my lips, licking him. Faster he moved, each pump being met with a reward. When I tasted the saltiness of pre-cum welling on the tip, I let go of my tits and wrapped my hand around him, running my tongue along the underside of his shaft, delicately pulling back the foreskin so I could lap at the liquid eliciting forth.

My moan as I wrapped my lips around him matched his. He _tasted_ masculine; like musk, saline, and that distinct scent of his skin. I couldn’t fully appreciate his size until then. Instead of slowly letting my jaw relax as I pulled him deeper into my mouth, I progressively took him further in with every bob of my head.

The sounds he made were an aphrodisiac all their own, the groans, the absence of breathing as his breath caught in his chest. Tangling my hair in his fist, he guided me as I pleasured him, my thumb rubbing a tight circle at the very base of his dick. I always loved giving head; I preferred it to receiving oral pleasure but this was transcendent. So often it was a giving operation with no take; this was more than that. Never before had I had a partner partake in the moment. All too often they were content to lie on their backs while I worked them. But Tom was an active participant and it almost made me guilty for acting like my past lovers moments before. _Almost._

With an authoritative tug on my hair, he pulled me face to face with him, embracing me as his lips sought mine. He missed all but the corner of my lips but I just chuckled as he kissed me anyway, his mouth slowly making its way to the right until our lips were aligned. “Close but no cigar,” I teased, whispering my taunt in between lip-locks.

“Hush and let me kiss you,” he rejoined, upping the ante as his tongue brushed against mine. “I’ve waited too long for this.”

I offered no resistance when he lowered me to my back, nudging my knees apart as he rolled on top of me. “You have no idea how many nights I fantasized about this moment,” he revealed.

“I think I do,” I sighed, recalling how we came to be in this moment in the first place. “Every time I did what you interrupted.”

Sliding the head of his cock up and down my pussy, rubbing it against my still-swollen clit, he pushed into me, slowly filling my passage. “God, you feel unbelievable,” he complimented, a shudder rolling through his body as he bumped against my cervix. “Until this moment I have never been so jealous of a damn rubber dildo..”

I silenced him with another kiss, forcing my hips into the mattress as he started to withdraw. Next push was not as deep but it was quicker, more purposeful. It was my turn to grab at his curls as our paces matched, each up- and downward movement of our hips in tandem. He pulled out briefly, but stretched out on his side, pulling me until my back was to his chest, resuming our rhythm from moments before. My leg draped back over his thigh, his right hand slithered down my hip and across my pelvis, easily slipping to manipulate the bundle of nerves that was firing all cylinders.

Tears spilled down my cheeks as that volcano inside exploded again, with all the force of Krakatoa. My muscles constricted around him as his thrusts became sharper, slower until he cried out and spilled his seed deep inside me.

Still inside me but completely spent, he pulled me closer against his chest, hands clasping his forearms as he encircled my torso, his teeth gently nibbling at my neck. “Why did we wait so long?”

“We were fools,” I replied, my fingers dancing along his arms.

“To make up for lost time we need to do this more often.”

I turned my head to meet his lips. “How soon is too soon?”

 

 


End file.
